Home > Uncategorized > Things That Are NOT the MTA’s Fault

Things That Are NOT the MTA’s Fault

Yesterday morning, my bus driver made a wrong turn (local route instead of express) and had to be GUIDED BACK TO THE PROPER STREET BY THE PASSENGERS because HE DIDN’T KNOW THE ROADS WELL ENOUGH TO DO IT HIMSELF.

Today, the large man in the seat next to me crushed against me hard enough to leave lasting crease imprints along my entire left arm. I mean, he was leaning on me heavily enough that I could feel his bones, never mind his flesh, grind against my bones every time he twitched, which he seemed to be doing quite often. Then, despite my conspicuous headphones, he started a conversation about how young I looked, what my college major was, whether I was married or romantically involved, and how scared he was that he might be losing his job. The high point of this exchange occurred when he dropped his empty soda bottle on the floor and then proceeded to make a dive through my legs to retrieve it. Bear in mind, there’s only about a 5-inch gap between my knees and the seat in front of me.

This would have been a scary experience if I wasn’t absolutely sure I could have taken him down.

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